


Five Times Mike Didn't Answer the Phone and the One Time He Did

by lizwontcry



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 15:00:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8757187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizwontcry/pseuds/lizwontcry
Summary: Spoilers for 1x09. What would have happened if Mike didn't answer the phone? A lot of dirty things, apparently.





	

**Author's Note:**

> One of these days I'm going to write a Pitch fic that isn't smutty....but today is not that day.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Kudos and feedback is always appreciated.

**ONE**

_"Part of me wants you to leave for the same reason you want to leave."_

The vibration of Mike's phone interrupts their almost kiss. Mike sighs and checks the phone. 

"It's Oscar," Mike says. He doesn't know what to think. It's probably good that the near-kiss was interrupted; they don't need to go there. They're teammates, even if just for the next 12 hours. 

"Answer it. You have to." Ginny looks disappointed. Or maybe he just hopes she looks disappointed.

Mike stares at his phone and makes a split second decision not to answer it. 

"It can wait," he says. Ginny looks like she wants to disagree, but then nods.

"I know you probably want to get home, but want to come over first? I make really good pancakes," Mike says. He has no idea where this is coming from, but he doesn't want the night to end yet. Or ever.

"Sure," Ginny says, grinning slightly. "Let me tell my driver to get lost."

Seconds later, they're in the backseat of Mike's Uber, and regretting that they made this terrible decision.

"Oh, my god," the driver, a middle-aged white guy, says. "Ginny Baker and Mike Lawson. I can't believe this! Wait until I tell the guys about this, they're not going to believe it! Hey, where are you going? Are you going to Petco?"

Mike and Ginny share a look. Maybe it would be easier just to say yes, because now if they go to his place, they're sure this guy's Facebook or tweets or Snapchat or whateverthefuck is going to expose them to the whole world.

"Yeah. We have... practice," Ginny says. Mike wants to laugh... she's such a bad liar.

"Practice at this hour? They sure got ya workin' hard on that team. Man, Mike, we're gonna miss ya," the guy says. "I can't believe you're leaving. Are you really leaving?!"

"Not sure yet. Wasn't my decision."

"Man, oh, man. And you never won a World Series! Sucks, man." The guy keeps talking, but Mike tunes him out. Easy to do when Ginny's sitting so close to him and he can feel the heat radiating from her. 

They get to the hotel and take the back entrance up to Ginny's room. Mike sits on the sofa while Ginny gets them another beer from the refrigerator. She returns and sits next to him. Neither of them have talked yet. What are they supposed to say? 

Mike decides to be the one to talk. "I have a question, Rook."

Ginny shakes her head, obviously annoyed to be called Rook off the field. "Yeah, Old Man?"

"You said... you said part of you wants me to leave for the same reason I want to leave. I understand that, I do. But what about the other part of you? What does that part think?"

Ginny looks at him strangely. He knows he's putting her on the spot, but at the same time, he really wants to know the answer.

"Well... I don't know, Mike, why are you asking me this right now? Can't we just drink this beer in peace?"

"No, come on, Gin. It's me. We're friends. You trust me, I know you do." He _thinks_ he knows she does, anyway.

Ginny sighs and puts her beer down. She's curled up on the couch, resting her chin on her knees, looking so conflicted and so beautiful and Mike is in love with her and there's absolutely no denying that anymore.

"Part of me wants you to leave for the same reason you want to leave. And part of me... doesn't want you to leave at all."

"Why is that?" Mike feels like an asshole, but it's important information.

"Come on, Mike, you know... you know why."

"Let's just talk about it, Gin. Let's put it out there. Just this once."

Ginny shakes her head. "Why do I have to be the one to say it? You started this, Lawson. You say it first." Mike wants to laugh. She's so stubborn. They both are.

Mike takes a breath and lets it out. If not now, when? "I wanted to kiss you back at the bar, Ginny. I've wanted to for a while now. I know it's inconvenient; I know we're teammates, I know it could ruin both of our careers if we handle it the wrong way, but right now, I just don't care. I want to finish what we started."

Ginny looks up at him with vulnerable eyes. He knows she doesn't hook up with teammates. He knows she's new to this league, she's got the weight of being the only female in the MLB on her shoulders, and she tries so hard to keep it together every single day. She's so strong and he has never admired anymore more than he does Ginny Baker.

"Mike... what do you want me to say? Of course I want it. You know I have your rookie card. You know about my posters. You know I follow you around like a lost puppy. I've wanted to kiss you since I was 11 years old." She shrugs. He waits for a "but" that never comes. So instead, Mike moves from the barstool he was sitting on and sits next to her on the couch. 

"Are you sure you don't want to check your phone?" Ginny asks. As soon as they came in the door, Mike turned it off and put it on the counter in the kitchen. He doesn't want to know. Whatever it is, it can wait. 

"Very sure," he replies. Ginny moves closer to him, and suddenly their foreheads are touching again. Their lips touch, and then pull back again. But then they come back, and now they're kissing. Kissing. So much kissing. 

Ginny sinks back into the pillow on the couch and Mike is next to her, touching her, gently, softly. While it might be more fun to desperately claw at each other, the time for that was back at the bar. Now it's all sweetness and   
touching, a gentle exploration.

There's no talking. There's plenty of kissing and little intoxicating moans, but no talking. Mike kisses Ginny's neck, her throat, her chest. He puts his warm hands under her shirt, caresses her back, unhooks her bra. She unbuttons his shirt, and then they're both topless, warm skin on warm skin. 

Touching, tasting, licking, sucking. It all happens very slowly, as if they both want to savor the moment, remember it, treasure it. When Mike finally does enter Ginny after what seems like hours of foreplay, she moans and arches her back, guiding him inside her, wanting him deeper and harder. Even if they haven't known each other long, it's unspoken that this is making love. It's not just sex. It's so much more than that. 

They lie together after it's over, murmuring and giggling and making promises none of them can possibly keep, but it doesn't matter. Yeah, they're going to have to deal with this, but not now. 

"Okay, check your phone, it's driving me crazy," Ginny finally says once the afterglow has worn off. 

"You seem to care about this way more than I do," Mike says, but obliges her request. They both go into the kitchen, naked as the day is long, and Mike listens to the first of his 37 voicemails. He's not shocked to hear what Oscar has to tell him--he even kind of suspected it--but still. This is not great news, especially after what just happened.

"I'm not going anywhere," he finally tells Ginny. "The deal fell apart."

Ginny looks at him in disbelief. They both understand that what just happened was a costly mistake. They are in trouble, and it's only going to get worse.

"Okay. Okay, good. Well, we'll just deal with it, right? I can keep a secret if you can," Ginny says. Mike nods. Sure. A secret. That's all this can be, at least for a while. Because without speaking of it, they both know this will keep happening. It's too good not to continue. _They_ are too good not to continue.

"I can keep a secret," Mike says. He opens his arms and Ginny comes in for an embrace. This was not supposed to happen. But it did, and neither of them can or want to take it back.

*****

**TWO**

_"I'm gonna miss the hell out of you."_

Ginny's slipping away from him. He was so close, and now he's so far. Her car is here. In seconds, she'll be gone, and he'll have to get on a plane to Chicago in a few hours. Ginny's right--he still lives in San Diego; he'll be back. But Mike knows that once he leaves, nothing will ever be the same. This flirtation he has with Ginny--the most interesting, intriguing, fascinating woman he's ever had the privilege of knowing--will turn into something else, albeit something not entirely unpleasant. He'd rather be friends with Ginny than not know her at all. But at the same time, for some reason he practically _yearns_ for this woman. It hurts somewhere inside of him that he didn't even know existed. What the fuck? This is ridiculous. He's leaving. She's staying. 

"Ginny..."

"Ginny? That's a first," she says, a strange grin on her face. He needs to say something. Anything to keep her here. Nothing is coming to him and he's losing his nerve; meanwhile Ginny's looking at him like he's nuts.   
_Is_ he nuts?

Finally Mike says, "I nailed your cleats," and Ginny laughs. That throaty laugh he has somehow, through no fault of his own, fallen in love with. She comes up to hug him, and as soon as he touches her, Mike feels the electricity. It's real. There's something between them, as much as he's tried to deny it, and there's nothing he can do about it now.

Mike feels Ginny's breath catch in her throat. She slowly moves her head closer to his, and now their foreheads are touching. The heat between them is both rising and falling and Mike doesn't know what to do about it.

"You have an early flight," Ginny whispers, and Mike gets it--she's trying to give them both a reason to stop this. But there is no stopping it. It _can't_ stop.

"Yeah..." Mike says, and they continue this game they're playing. All he can see are Ginny's lips, and all he wants to do is touch them with his own. And just as it's about to happen, just as Mike has rationalized fucking everything up this massively, his phone vibrates in his pants pocket. 

Ginny hears it, too. "Answer it," she says. She pulls away slightly, expecting him to do the same, to answer the phone call that will probably seal his fate.

Mike thinks about this. He definitely should answer the phone. It could be Oscar or someone in Chicago or really any number of important people. But something lingers in the back of his mind... what if the trade fell apart?   
What if someone is calling him to say he's still a Padre? He'd be relieved, of course, but... then this kiss would have to end. And there probably won't be any other kisses. And Mike _needs_ this kiss. Everything in his body needs it. Needs her.

"No," Mike says. "I'm not going to answer it."

Ginny's look of concern slowly turns into a wicked grin. Mike is sure she understands the situation as well as he does, and that in an instant, they've both made the conscious decision to make this mistake. 

Ginny grabs his hand and pulls him towards her. "Fuck it," she whispers, and kisses him. No more teasing, no more beating around the bush--they're doing this. 

The kiss? Well, it's a good kiss. It's a needy kiss; it's a desperate kiss. Nothing else exists for the moment--not the trade, not the two Uber drivers who are impatiently waiting for their passengers, not the busy street where anyone in the city could happen to find two teammates from their beloved Padres in a passionate embrace.

Finally, Mike is the one to pull away. "Come with me," he says.

Ginny nods. When she finally manages to tear herself away from him, she tells her driver that she doesn't need a ride after all. She comes back and takes Mike hand, and they get into his Uber driver's large black SUV. 

They engage in small talk with the driver for a few minutes, and thank the lord, they've found the second person of the evening who has no clue who these people in his backseat are. So they resume The Kiss. Slowly at first, trying to get back to where they left off. But minutes later, the desperation has returned. Mike can't wait to touch her--his hands are all over Ginny, in her hair, her bare shoulders, her hips, her smooth legs. They should probably pace themselves, but... that's not going to happen tonight. 

Five minutes later, the driver pulls up to Mike's street. "Hey, man, looks like there's a bunch of people in your yard. What's up with that?"

Mike and Ginny simultaneously sigh. The press. They're worse than paparazzi sometimes. Is Mike's trade to Chicago really that important to elicit this kind of reaction? "Oh, that's my... neighbor. He's a movie star or something. The press like to stand outside his house sometimes. For fun. Hey, um, what's your name, dude?"

"Randy."

"Randy, if I give you, oh, I don't know, $500, do you think you can drive around for another hour or so?" Ginny looks at him, confused. He shrugs. What else are they going to do?

"Hey, man, for $500, I won't even pay attention to what's going on in the backseat." He gives Mike a knowing nod. Ginny chuckles.

"Sounds like a deal," Mike says, and takes the money out of his pocket. Randy looks at it appreciatively and continues to drive past Mike's house.

"So what, we're just going to do it right here in this car?" Ginny whispers in Mike's ear. "Who do you think I am, Mike Lawson? Jesus."

"I think you're Ginny Baker, and I think you want this as much as I do," Mike whispers back, and his hand inches up her thigh. She inhales sharply. 

"I think you're a cocky asshole," she says. "But that doesn't mean you're wrong." Mike grins, and the kissing continues. His hand eventually reaches between her legs, and his fingers gently graze her flimsy underwear. In response, she's kissing his neck, biting his lip, sicking his ear lobe when she notices it makes him crazy. 

Thankfully there's enough room in the SUV to stretch out a bit, so he instructs Ginny to lean back, and when she does without even asking him, Mike is able to take her panties off and, albeit at a weird and uncomfortable angle, get into position to go down on her. She is warm and wet when his tongue meets her pussy, and she moans loudly as he finds all the places that drive her mad. Mike sticks a finger inside of her and after a few minutes, he can feel her orgasm and knows that it was a pretty damn good one.

Ginny is anxious to return the favor. She practically rips his pants off and as soon as he feels her lips on his cock, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Damn, Ginny is good at this. So good. So very good. She grasps his dick with her hand as she expertly licks his balls, making him shiver. Whoa.

"Come here," he tells her, and Ginny knows what to do. She gets on his lap, inserting his cock into her, and they're eye to eye as she rides him like a rodeo cowgirl. He pulls down her dress so he can see her breasts, and hungrily licks a nipple like it's dessert. 

They fuck each other senseless for a long, long time, and it's exciting and new and definitely kind of wrong. Mike's phone, long forgotten in the pocket of his jeans, keeps vibrating, and he knows Oscar and whoever else is   
trying desperately to get a hold of him. They can wait. 

"It's time," Mike breathes, and Ginny quickly hops off of his dick and takes it in her mouth, and he's so surprised that he comes immediately into it. Ginny greedily swallows it all. They grin at each other while she finds a bottle of water in her purse and sucks it down.

"Hey, man, can you take us to the Hard Rock?" Mike asks Randy.

"Sure thing," Randy says.

"What? Why are we going there?" Ginny asks. She doesn't look displeased about it, though.

"Press is at my house. Press will be at Petco. Let's just go to a hotel and wait it out," he replies. _And fuck again until we can watch the sunrise from the balcony_ is implied. 

"Great," Ginny says. "Let's go." 

The fact that Mike is still a Padre and they probably just made the biggest mistake of their lives, well, they'll have to deal with that later. Like, after sunrise.

*****

**THREE**

_"Ginny? That's a first."_

"It's Oscar," Mike says.

"Answer it. You have to." 

Without hesitating, Mike puts his phone back in his pocket. "No. Whatever it is, it can wait."

"Are you serious?" Ginny asks, incredulous. "It's probably important!"

"It probably is," Mike agrees. "But I don't care."

"Okay... what _do_ you care about?" Ginny asks, a sly grin forming on those lovely lips of hers.

"This," Mike says, and kisses her. Finally. Yeah, not his best idea, but Mike hasn't gotten this far without doing some stupid shit in his life. This one probably tops the list, though.

"Oh," Ginny says when the kiss finally ends. "That... was good."

"Good?" Mike asks, as always a cocky bastard. "I think it was pretty damn great."

"I've had better," Ginny teases, and Mike laughs. 

"What about your date? You know, the one you ditched to come see me," Mike says. Ginny hits him in the arm.

"I thought the other guys would be here," Ginny says, but they both know that's not true. "Omar texted me, too, you know. I thought he was going to be here--that's why I came."

Ginny knows Omar has a little crush on her--it's not like he's subtle about it. She's also noticed that Mike seems cranky around Omar these days. Maybe the two aren't connected, but maybe they are. 

Predictably, Mike frowns. "Omar, huh? You got a thing for him?"

Ginny laughs. And maybe it's all the alcohol and half a jalapeno burger running through her, but she says, "No. I only have a 'thing' for one person."

Mike's frown instantly disappears. Before he can open his big dumb mouth again, Ginny kisses him. There's a lot of kissing that happens right there on the street. It's likely to be on Twitter in a matter of minutes, but neither of them seem to care about that at the moment.

Ginny's driver honks, and jolts them from their kissing trance.

"Look, um, before you check your phone and find out what your fate is, I just want you to know... I mean, Mike, I--"

Mike kisses Ginny again, this time more gently, and says, "Ginny, I know. I feel the same way. We'll figure it out."

"I like it when you say my name," Ginny says shyly. "I like... I like it." He knows she wants to say so much more, but there are some things better left unsaid right now.

"I do, too," Mike says. He needs to go home. Like, right now. Or something will happen they will both regret.

"See you later, Lawson," Ginny says. She gets in her car and she's gone.

Feeling pretty damn depressed, Mike gets in his own car and instructs the driver on where to go. He listens to his voicemails on the way home. Oscar's first through sixth voicemail instructs Mike to call ASAP. The seventh voicemail finally gets to the point.

"Lawson, it's Oscar. Again. Since you won't answer the phone, I'll just tell you--the deal fell apart. You're still a Padre. Call me when you get this. See ya, buddy."

Mike exhales. He and Ginny narrowly avoided making a huge mistake. For some reason, this doesn't make him feel better. 

He gets a text as the car pulls up to his house.

_I'm not going to forget it, Old Man... it was too good to forget._

Mike doesn't know what to do with that. But he still goes to bed with a smile.

Maybe next time.

*****

**FOUR**

_"It's only been three months."_

"You've got an early flight."

"Yeah."

Mike's phone vibrates from his pocket, but it's ignored. Nothing can stop this from happening. It's inevitable. They're inevitable.

Foreheads touching, lips grazing, breath mingling. They give into it. They kiss. It's a long kiss; it's a steamy kiss, with tongues and moans and teeth, and it's so. Fucking. Good.

Mike pulls Ginny into the alley, out of the view of passersby with their phones out, ready to get a picture of their local baseball team's rookie and veteran making out like teenagers. They kiss. They touch. Things get   
interesting. They want to take it further, but something tells them they need to go slow. Pace themselves. Save some for later.

"Check your phone, Lawson. I'm dying to know what's going on," Ginny says.

Mike doesn't want to. God knows what the news is now--either way he's screwed, basically. 

He listens to the voicemail from Oscar. Well, that makes sense. He just crossed the line with Ginny and now he gets to see her every single day until he retires. Good plan.

"I'm not going anywhere. The deal fell apart."

In spite of herself, Ginny smiles. It's a genuine smile, and it makes Mike feel better.

"Yes! You're staying! I knew you'd retire as a Padre," she says, and pinches his arm. 

"Yeah, great, but--"

Ginny pushes him against the wall and kisses him again. He likes this interruption.

"I know what it means for us. And that's a bummer. But guess what, Lawson? There's a lot of alleys in this world. Closets. Bathrooms. Bedrooms."

Ginny looks so giddy and excited. He can't believe he's only known this woman for three months. He's known Rachel since they were teenagers and she _never_ got under his skin like Ginny's managed to in this short time. Man, he is such a goner.

"You're right, Rook. I'll see you tomorrow. This Padre needs his beauty rest."

"Okay. Bye, Old Man." She gives him another long, deep kiss to remember her by. Which she didn't need to do, because as it turns out... Ginny Lawson is unforgettable.

*****

**FIVE**

_"I'll never miss the beard."_

Mike Lawson and that fucking beard. 

For some reason totally unknown to Ginny, she is unbearably attracted to men with beards. Okay, that's a straight up lie--she hates beards, but she loves Mike's. The Mike Lawson she grew up with on her wall, the one in the poster, that guy didn't have a beard. He was America's good boy, the All-American baseball MVP. But somewhere along the way, he became kind of dangerous. Unpredictable. And the beard took on a life of its own as he became more and more untamed. As puberty hit Ginny like a truck in her early teen years, most of her weird fantasies centered around a bearded Mike. She used to think that was weird, but as the years went by, the fantasies got more and more explicit.

When the Padres recruiter found Ginny in Texas, she couldn't believe it. Ginny thought someone must have been pranking her at first. This was happening. She was really going to be on the same team as Mike--someday.   
That's when her fantasies became completely out of control, through no fault of her own. She didn't _want_ to fantasize about a future teammate, but something happens to her when she remembers Mike Lawson exists. 

After the brushing of the lips, after the missed phone call, after the car has taken them to her hotel room, and mid-way through trying to consume Mike Lawson, Ginny decides she's going to take control of the situation. This is her crush. The man she's never been able to shake. And now he's here in her room, wanting to do unspeakable things to her. Well, it's her turn first.

They're sitting next to each other on the couch, but Ginny makes the split decision to get on top of him. Mike looks surprised, but very, very intrigued. He doesn't talk, and Ginny is grateful for that. 

After a good deal of kissing and biting and all kinds of other things, Ginny rips Mike's shirt off and kisses his lovely, sculpted chest. He seems to be enjoying it plenty. She loves this. She loves making him feel good. And she knows that when she's done with him, he's going to make her feel even better. But not yet. She's not finished with him yet.

"Do you trust me?" Ginny whispered in his ear after licking his earlobe and causing something between a grunt and a moan.

Mike knows Ginny's up to something, and he's here for it. Still, he can't help but tease. "I don't know, should I?"

"Probably not," Ginny says, and bites his lip. "But I need a yes or no."

"Yes," Mike says, without knowing what her plans are and not caring.

"Good," she says. "Follow me." Mike follows her into the bedroom, where she kind of pushes him onto the bed. She makes him stay there while she goes through some boxes in her closet. After a bit of digging, she finds what she's looking for. When she returns to the bed, Mike finally sees what's in her hand.

"What the hell?" He asks, intrigued. "I never would have thought..."

"I'm full of surprises," Ginny says, and puts his left hand in the handcuffs. Before he can protest or ask any more questions, both his hands are in the handcuffs and Ginny chains them to the bed post. Mike is now in a very compromising situation.

"Now, Ginny, come on, I can be very ticklish--"

"Shh. My turn." Mike shuts up. 

Ginny takes her jeans and shirt off and is now just in a bra and panties. Mike whistles, appreciating the view. She gets on top of him and notes with pleasure that he is very, very hard. She kisses him, biting his lip, sucking his tongue. She would kiss more of his face but that damn beard is in the way. So she goes to his neck and kisses and licks it until he moans a little. She kisses his chest, and then licks his nipple, which makes him giggle, so she bites it instead. 

"Mmm, Baker, this is--"

Ginny sticks a hand over his mouth. "Don't talk, Lawson. Okay?" He nods. Ginny knows that he's into this, and if he wasn't, he'd tell her. For some reason, being in complete control of her poster boy is making her hotter than ever. 

She continues kissing her way down his body. She licks his inner thighs, and for the extra surprise factor, sucks his toe. He lets out a deep breath that seems to indicate he likes what she's doing. Eventually Ginny makes her way back up, and she licks his cock through his underwear. This is obviously driving him crazy, so she takes his underwear off, appreciating what she thought was only a rumor. Mike Lawson has a big dick, and she can't wait to put it in her mouth.

Ginny does her usual good work, and she knows when Mike is on the edge of losing it. His body is moving in all kinds of interesting ways, arching and flexing and tensing, and Ginny enjoys watching it all.

When she thinks he's had enough, she takes her panties off. Mike looks at her like she's the answer to every problem he's ever had. So she does what any girl would do in her place, and she sits on his face. Since he's still in handcuffs, Mike can't grab her, but he still knows what to do. She feels his tongue start to lap away at her hungry pussy, and damn, it feels good. Fuck. He's good at this. Why wouldn't he be? She's sure he's had a lot of practice. 

When _she's_ on the brink, she moves back on top of him. "You ready?" Ginny asks Mike. He nods, obviously in a trance he probably doesn't ever want to come out of. So she gets on top of him, and the instant she puts him inside of her, they are both groaning, and writhing, and slithering, and everything is fireworks and cotton candy, or whatever. There's really no way to explain the orbit they are currently in, and how they're ever going to top this. 

After the deed is done, Ginny gets Mike out of the handcuffs. They lay together, not speaking or touching. After Mike has plenty of time to catch his breath, he says, "Just wait, Baker. I'll get my revenge soon enough."

"You better," she says, and they share a nice kiss that promises interesting things to come. Ginny knows Mike needs to check his phone and see the hell is going on, but this is their own moment. Well, it's _her_ moment. She just made her poster boy come his brains out. Her teenage self would be so proud.

*****

**BACK TO ONE**

_"I'm not going anywhere. The trade fell through."_

Thankfully Ginny's Uber driver is maybe one of a handful of people in San Diego who doesn't recognize her, and he's not trying to make small talk, either. So she has plenty of time to sit in the back seat and think about what. The fuck. Just happened.

Okay, so they almost kissed. That's... fine. No, really, it's good. Fantastic, almost. Except it's terrible and what the hell was Ginny even thinking? They're teammates. God, it's like ever since she finally got called up to the big   
leagues, she's lost control of herself. Her morals. Her instincts. You spend practically your whole life working towards a goal and what happens when you finally get there? You practically blow the whole thing on the guy from the poster on your wall. Not that it wouldn't have been worth it, because... oh, it would have been worth it. 

See, that's the problem. That is the big, fat, stupid fucking problem. The call that interrupted the near-kiss was from Oscar. The deal with the Cubs fell through and Mike is staying in San Diego. Which is actually a good thing! They're still teammates and that's great; Ginny is ecstatic about that. She'd miss Mike too much if he left and so would everyone else on the team. But the thing is, before this almost-kiss, she had no idea how Mike felt about her. If she was even on his radar at all. Sure, they were friends, but until five minutes ago, she still thought Mike thought of her as just one of the guys. But his breath on her face, his nose on her nose, their lips almost touching, their lives almost changing... that happened. They can't take that back. The season isn't over yet and they're going to have to keep it professional and she still has to be the pitcher to his catcher all the while knowing that they were a split second away from crossing a very thin line.

Ginny played her hand. She's the one who went in for the kiss first. She let her childish crush on the captain of the team get the best of her when all this time, she's been trying to play it so cool. God, she even left in the   
middle of a date to see Mike! Noah is nice and charming and she could see herself dating him, letting him take her to fancy places and ordering jalepeno burgers from all over the world... but he will never be Mike Lawson.   
And ever since the second she met Mike for the first time and he was a rude old asshole who slapped her ass to make his teammates laugh, she knew that no one would or could quite measure up to him. What can she say? She's attracted to bad boys.

And until the exact moment she felt his breath on her face, she had no idea he could ever feel the same way. And that's what sucks! It was easier not knowing that he is attracted to her, that he wants to kiss her, that he thinks of her as more than a teammate and even a friend. Maybe it's just good, old-fashioned lust, though. Ginny doesn't have any illusions that Mike sees her as a romantic partner. Like, how would that even work? He's so much older than her. They've had such different paths. But they have a lot in common, too. Ginny suspects their family lives might have been equally as fucked up as kids. They'd have to talk about that some time, maybe.

At home, Ginny takes off her fancy dress and make-up and gets into some comfy PJs. What a night. What a crazy, ridiculous night. Just as she's about to get some ice cream out of the freezer (she deserves it), her phone dings and she sees a text message from Mike. 

_About 2 go 2 bed... just one problem tho_

Ginny types back, _yeah? what is it_

_Cant stop thinking about u_

If she wasn't so sad, she'd laugh at how Mike texts like a 12 year old girl. But her heart hurts. Well, obviously she can't stop thinking about him, either, but what good does that do? They can't be together. Not now. It's too complicated. The team wouldn't get it, the media wouldn't get it, the fans wouldn't get it. She has feelings for Mike and apparently he has feelings for her as well, but... too bad.

_I have the same prob_

Ginny's phone rings. It's Mike. She sighs. Why is he insisting on making this a thing instead of going home and trying to forget about it like she is? He is so persistent!

"Hey," Ginny says.

"Hi. Look, Baker... I've been thinking," Mike says. Ginny groans. Mike laughs. "No, no, just hear me out. I have one year left in this game. Two, tops. Someday we won't be teammates anymore."

"Yeah?" Ginny asks, because she doesn't know what else to say.

"Yeah. I'm just saying that because I intend to follow up on that kiss we almost had," he says, and his voice is so vulnerable it almost makes her want to cry from the unfairness of it all. "I owe you one."

"Yeah, you do," Ginny says. "I'll be waiting to collect on that promise."

"Good," Mike says. "I'm glad we're on the same page. Good night, Baker."

"See ya, Lawson," Ginny says, and hangs up. Someday she's going to kiss Mike Lawson, and that day will be a good one. But until then, she's the pitcher and he's the catcher and they have a game to play.


End file.
